They had not far to go to the spinney Joshua had located. It ran on a low wall, crumbling and ivy-grown, which shut in the gardens of the house they sought. The wall was easy enough to come over. The horses were tethered in a thicket, a hundred yards or more from the road. Sir Nicholas set a hand on the low wall, and vaulted lightly over; Joshua climbed after him. They found themselves behind a yew hedge that bordered a paved walk. There were openings cut in it, and through one of these they went, to the pleasaunce. Ahead of them the house loomed up in the darkness; they could see a light burning through an open window on the ground-floor, and another in a room above-stairs. For the rest there seemed to be no sign of life in the house, or else the windows were shuttered. "Stay you in the lee of that hedge," Sir Nicholas whispered. "I am off to see what is to be seen." He slipped past, and was across the pleasaunce before Joshua could expostulate; bareheaded, a hand on his sword-hilt. Joshua saw him reach the shadow of the house, and lost him then for a space. Evidently he was making a reconnaissance of those dark windows. Joshua shivered and drew his cloak more closely about him. There was no sound behind the shuttered windows, nor any light discernible. The place seemed to be strangely quiet, or else this side of the house was not much inhabited. Sir Nicholas stole along until he stood beneath the one unshuttered window. Flattening himself against the wall, he peeped cautiously in. The window stood wide to the cool evening air; the room seemed to be a sort of winter parlour, very elegantly furnished. In a chair half-turned from the window sat Doña Beatrice de Carvalho, reading from a gilt-bound volume. Sir Nicholas considered her for a moment. Then with a little shrug of fatalism he set his hands on the sill and noiselessly swung one leg over. Doña Beatrice, yawning over her book, heard a tiny sound, the click of a scabbard against the stone wall. She turned her head towards the window, and for once was startled out of her composure. She let fall her book. "I give you a thousand good-morrows, señora," said Sir Nicholas pleasantly, and came gracefully into the room. Doña Beatrice recovered herself. "My dear Chevalier!" she drawled. "Or should I say my dear Señor Beauvallet?" "But were you in doubt?" said Sir Nicholas, one eyebrow up. "Very little," she said. She lay back in her chair, placidly regarding him. "You are a remarkably bold man, señor. I protest I like you. But what do you hope for here?" "To be frank with you, señora, I am here to carry off your niece," said Sir Nicholas. He walked to the door, opened it, and looked out into the passage. There was no sign of anyone stirring. He shut the door, and came back into the room. "And if your charming son is at hand I shall be happy to cross swords with him," he added.